The Auto-Memories Doll and Her Major
by Kayleem127
Summary: Violet believed she would see him again one day. As she stroked the emerald that always hung about her throat, she knew. A reunion and coming-of-age story for Violet and her beloved Major.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

* * *

Violet twirled her parasol absentmindedly as she gazed out over the emerald field and caught the first glimpse of her new client's home. Assignments excited her, especially when she got to travel and stay for an extended period.

Her pulse was even and strong as the door before her opened. As she made her introduction she wondered, for the briefest moment, if she had ever felt a moment of nervousness in her life. A rush of adrenaline, fear, certainly - but she didn't think she'd ever felt nervous per se.

As she bowed, she itched with anticipation to know what she might learn from this next assignment. She always did, it seemed. Every letter she wrote brought her closer to _him_, allowed her to understand him, and herself, just a little bit more.

She rose to meet her new client.

"Auto Memories Doll, Vi-" she gasped, sucking the tiniest bit of air into her lungs before her eyes relayed the visual information before her to her brain where she could comprehend it. She couldn't help it when the corners of her mouth turned upward into a small smile.

"Violet Evergarden, at your service... Major."

An eyepatch covered the eye that'd been injured in the war, but his good eye was as green as ever, and it shone with emotions she could now put names to. His hair, which she'd rarely seen not slicked back, hung over the eye patch in a way that she found peculiar for him but attractive. His left arm too, had been replaced by one similar to hers. He was much the same to her despite those things, and there was no mistaking him. She still thought he was beautiful.

"Violet."

At the sound of her name from his lips she dropped her case and parasol, at the same moment he pulled her to his chest exactly as he'd done when they'd first met. It had been the first time she could ever remember feeling safe, like nothing could ever hurt her again. And it was all because of him. But unlike that dark past, she was older now, she understood more than she ever could have back then. She knew how he loved her, and that she too, loved him. He was the only thing she loved in all the world. It was the truest gift he'd given her. The brooch may have allowed her to hang onto hope, but his love had given her life meaning long after he'd left it. Even if he'd been truly dead, she never would have forgotten him; and in that way, as his mother had said, he'd always be alive, because she loved him.

They held each other far longer than either of them had ever held anyone. Each reluctant to let go, lest it all be a dream. What were words now, when touch could say so much more? Violet had never felt this before, this was new, but also familiar. And she was proud to recognize it for what it was - another way to say, "I love you."

She felt his tears more than she heard them. They were dampening the crown of her hair, and hers were being absorbed into the soft white cotton of his shirt. Her small arms gripped his waist tightly, her hands fisted the shirt at his back. He was warm, so warm and alive. And she cried harder. She wept, as she'd done so many times since she'd been told he was gone, as the pain in her heart began to ease with the balm of his arms wrapped around her once more. She belonged here, this was where she wished to die if she could have the choice.

"Oh Violet," he whispered hoarsely as she sobbed. "My precious, precious flower. Cease this crying, I'm here now. We're together again. Are you not happy?"

"I am. I've never felt so much of it before."

He smiled and finally pulled his head back a little so he could see her face. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes please, Major."

"Now, now. None of that," he chided. "Call me Gilbert. This isn't the army anymore, Violet."

His arms loosened from around her and fear struck her suddenly. She couldn't control it. She gripped him closer again, terrified to release him, to not be touching him anymore, just in case he faded away on the wind and disappeared again to a place she could not follow.

He dried his eyes and chuckled, sensing her thoughts. "Violet, I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. "You can let go. Here, take my hand. Hold onto me tight, now."

She smiled and released him slowly, watching his warm hand move to take her cold one. He hadn't forgotten the state he'd last seen her in, so he didn't even flinch at the hard metal he felt under her glove. They shared that now as well. He took her case and parasol from the porch and brought them inside with them.

"Come. Sit with me."

The cabin was small but comfortably furnished. She thought the couch looked quite inviting. There were soft blankets draped over the back and tucked over the cushions, like a wonderful place to nap or daydream in the lazy afternoon breeze of an open window. She thought about him relaxing on it in the golden hour of the afternoon and blushed slightly at such an intimate image of him. She'd never thought of him like that before; never allowed herself to imagine him alive, replaying only her memories of him when the loneliness hit her hardest.

When she sat beside him, Gilbert allowed her to be close. With anyone else it would have been extremely inappropriate, but he knew they were above such things. Everything they had been through together was a testament to that. This was a special bond, one that he was sure no one else in the world had besides them.

"Do you remember what I told you? When we were in the church at Intense, just before the explosion? You asked what the words meant."

She shifted slightly against him. "Yes. I remember."

"Do you know what they mean now?"

"Yes, Gilbert. I've learned very much since that time."

He nodded.

She sat up a little, startling him slightly. "I wrote you a letter."

"You-you did?"

"Yes. For the air show. The first once after the war ended."

"Oh. What did it say?"

"I can recite it for you, if you like."

"Only if you want to, Violet," he answered softly.

"I do, Major. I mean... Gilbert."

And so she did. She told him how she finally understood what "I love you" means, how much he'd meant to her, and how she hoped to see him again. Gilbert wiped at his eyes as she concluded her recitation of the letter she'd written years ago, only for him.

"But," she paused, "there's one thing I didn't write in the letter. I wanted to save it for when you returned to me."

His good eye widened. "Returned? You knew then, that I was alive?"

"Yes, I knew."

He laughed. "Of course you did. What did you want to tell me, Violet?"

"I wanted to tell you, that I love you too. I love you, Gilbert. I did then, but I did not know it. I still do, and I always will. I have learned there are many different kinds of love, but that you can feel them all for one person. I think it's... beautiful."

Never had Gilbert felt like sobbing for joy so hard in his life. Her words were more than he'd ever hoped to hear her say. He tried to clear the tightness that had formed in his throat. "You still wear the brooch I gave you." He stroked the emerald that hung at her throat tenderly with his fingertips.

"It was all I had left of you that I could touch," she stated.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh Violet."

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?! No! Nothing could ever be wrong. Not when you're here with me." He pulled her to his side. She may be a young woman now, but she was still petit and so slight of frame that he easily tucked her into him, and willingly she complied. He could feel her need to be close to him. He felt the same way.

"We have much to talk about, Violet. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me. We have time. I asked for you to be employed for a couple of weeks. I hope you'll stay. Will you? Stay with me?"

"Yes, Gilbert. I will."

And so they sat. Tightly together on a warm couch in each other's embrace until the bright daylight turned golden, and the sun set and twilight the color of her blue eyes descended around them. The moonlight shone through a window, casting them in its shaft of soft white light. Soon they would need to rise. There was tea to be made, and dinner to be eaten and he would have to make sure she was comfortable for the night in the guest room. But for now, they let the silence ease away the years of pain they'd endured while they were separated. They allowed the warmth of their bodies to thaw the cold loneliness that had weighed heavily on their hearts for so long. Tomorrow there would be time for talking. Nothing about the future would be as easy as this, so they drank in the tranquility while they could.

* * *

A/N: Hello all, and welcome to the first fanfiction I found the guts to publish.

I recently binged Violet Evergarden on Netflix, twice, and fell in love with the story and characters. But, in my vain search for good and satisfying stories about Violet and the Major, inspiration struck. This is how I imagined them to reunite. This may be a one-shot, I haven't yet decided. I'm currently reading a lot of fan-made translations of the books online so I might be borrowing some elements from them in the future. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and **please** review (especially if you would like me to continue)! Constructive criticism is welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

Violet sighed as she opened her eyes. She had never slept so peacefully.

The air was the color of dusk, the sun having yet risen. As she rolled onto her back, she noticed a familiar shadow in the corner of the room and she smiled contentedly.

"Good morning, Gilbert."

"Good morning. I hope you slept well."

She sat up. "I did. And you? Did you sleep well?"

He strode toward her and sat on the edge of the bed facing her.

"I'm afraid not. I had too many things on my mind to sleep."

Emerald eyes met blue, steady and unflinching. He had always looked at her that way. They burned, she could see it now, for her.

His expression turned serious. "Violet, please ask me. I know you're dying to know."

She frowned, looking about the room. _Now? It's so early... _

She brought her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. She suddenly felt very small, like a child again.

"I don't want to," she whispered.

He placed a cool hand to her cheek. "I think you must."

Her heart began to hammer against her chest. "Please..."

"We have to get this out of the way, Violet." Gilbert was stubborn when he needed to be.

She shook her head frantically. "No."

"Come on now, Violet. I won't order you to."

Tears, unbidden, threatened to choke her. She wished to avoid this as long as possible. They'd had such a wonderful and peaceful evening the night before, as if no time had passed between them. And yet, he pushed, perhaps wise to the fact that neither of them could move forward before this was settled.

"Fine then! _Why_?" she cried. "Tell me **_why_**!"

That one strained word, when it did come out, spoke more than she could begin to say. He felt the accusations acutely, as if she'd shouted them; each one a piercing blow to his heart.

_Why did you want me to believe you didn't survive? _

_Why did you want me to think you were dead, all this time? _

_Why did you leave me all alone?_

**_What did I do to deserve it?!_**

He tried to pull her into his arms, but she struggled out of his reach. His arms feel to his sides in resignation.

"Violet, I didn't want to hurt you."

He deserved her anger, he hadn't been fair to her.

"You must try to understand, I couldn't interfere with your life any more than I already had. If I came back to you, I was afraid... I didn't want you to be a tool again. I knew that if I came back, you would try to become my weapon once more. I couldn't bear it. It would kill me to see someone I love so much acting as a tool, and nothing more. I wanted you to _live_. You needed to do that without me. I'm sorry, but I had to do it. You needed to make your own choices; to make a life for you and you alone. I had to let you be."

Violet was weary of weeping, but the years without him had caused her so much heartache. She cried for all the lost time they might have had together. Did she understand? Of course, she did. He was right, after all. After she'd woken from the hospital, all she'd wanted was to hear him tell her what to do next. Just breathing without him there to tell her to felt like a betrayal to him. What did she know? Nothing, until she was forced to be without him. But it still felt like a bullet tearing through her flesh, and she remembered well the sensation.

"Please, Violet. Tell me you understand."

She slid toward him, and met his gaze. His brows were knit together and his hair was disheveled around his face. She ran a hand gently through it, smoothing it away from his good eye.

"I do. And I would have... become your tool again. It's all I wanted from the moment I woke in the hospital to find I had not died. I wanted... no. I _needed_ your orders. It was the only purpose I knew."

He held her face in his hands, grinning proudly. "And now look at you. You don't take orders from anyone now, do you."

She gave him a teary sort of grin. "No, I do not. I live free."

"Free..."

He didn't ask permission, he didn't need to. He pulled her close and lay down beside her. She folded herself into him, as she used to so many years ago during the war when the damp and cold bit into her bones and all she could do was shiver in the dark. He'd held her tight, then, to keep her warm. Even then, when the summer was many moons behind them, he smelled of grass and sunlight and something she'd never found the name for, something entirely _him_. Now, she breathed it in deep, filling her being with his scent, wishing she could hold that breath inside her lungs and never let it go.

He held her tight, hands stroking, stroking everywhere, with the simple need to feel her again. Her hair, her arms, her back, her cheek, even the delicate skin behind her earlobe. She never wanted him to stop. He was real. He was here, alive, with her. Heat spread everywhere he touched, her body began to tremble, but she was not cold. What was this feeling? It was completely foreign to her, unlike anything she could ever remember experiencing. For some reason, she hesitated to ask him about it. Was she embarrassed? Maybe. All she knew was she wanted him to keep holding her, keep touching her. It felt good, and she wanted more of it.

Sleep slowly enveloped them, and with it came dreams. She remembered the terror she'd felt when he told her to leave him behind. Terror... she could name many emotions now. Anger, that he'd dared give up so easily; that he'd felt his life was forfeit compared to hers. She would've shaken him in fury if she hadn't lost her arms. Even then, she hadn't obeyed his order. Then, the explosion.

Violet jolted awake.

"What is it?" He asked softly, concerned.

She shook her head and burrowed into his chest. "It is nothing," she mumbled. "Just memories."

A few seconds of silence passed, then:

"Violet?"

"Yes?"

"Do you... do you understand what it means to want someone? Do you understand what's involved in romantic love?"

She thought for a moment. She'd learned of procreation and how children were born from books she'd read. Is that what he meant?

"Do you mean relations between a man and a woman?" She asked, matter-of-factly.

The former Major felt heat flush his cheeks. "Yes, I… that's exactly what I mean."

"I understand what is involved," she explained. "I know how it is done."

"Oh... You've done it before, then?"

"No. I simply know of it. The other dolls, they've talked to me about it. I understood most of what they were saying... Why do you ask?"

His heartbeat had quickened since he'd brought it up, and the sensation of her breath on his neck was not keeping him as calm as he would have liked. "I just think we, er, _I_ should be as open and honest as possible with you."

"I do not understand."

"Don't worry about it," he sighed. "I'm sorry I brought it up. In fact, if I told you everything I was thinking, I'm sure you would change your mind about staying."

"Unless you're no longer the same man who raised me and took care of me when no one else would have, nothing could make me want to leave you ever again."

He squeezed her closer to him. How he loved her!

She wiggled. "I like that."

"Like what?"

"The way you touch me," she admitted, sheepishly. "You've always been so gentle."

He turned to lay on his back, pulling her on top of his chest so he could see her face.

"I'm gentle because I love you. I never want to hurt you again, Violet."

So much she wished to say, so much she still did not understand. It made her want to cry. She wanted to ask him for something, but she didn't really know what. Her body trembled again, despite the warmth of him seeping into her. When her wandering gaze landed on his lips, hers tingled in response.

A Kiss. That must be it. She wanted a kiss.

He could see it in her eyes. He recalled the same look on the first girl who'd ever kissed him. He'd never wanted anything so badly than to kiss Violet in this moment, with her staring into him so innocently, with those blue eyes that were as deep as the sea. She may never express much, but to him her eyes would always give her away.

Ever so slowly, Gilbert lifted his head toward hers. She rose to meet him. When her lips met his, she felt all strength leave her. She was weightless, like the scent of him that surrounded her. He pulled away but she leaned further into him, connecting them again. He groaned when her lips inadvertently parted and his bottom lip slipped between them. He could almost taste her. He stopped himself before he did anything that might frighten her.

Her breathing had grown heavy and her heart pounded in her chest. Confused, she sat up and placed a hand over her heart.

"Gilbert, what is this called?" she asked, breathless.

"You mean the kiss?"

Her brows knit together slightly. "No, _this,_" she clarified as she took his good hand and placed it over her heart right between her breasts. "My heart," she continued. "Why is it doing that?"

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He wouldn't lie to her, but this was more difficult than he had anticipated. He tugged his hand away from her.

"That's a little bit of what I was talking about earlier."

He knew he was being vague, avoiding giving her a complete answer.

"I see, but..." she paused, searching for the right words. "I want to keep kissing you. It must be called something... this _feeling_."

He sank his head back into the pillow. "You're excited, Violet."

"Oh... Are... are you excited too, Gilbert?"

She was so innocent, no matter how many books she'd read.

"Yes, Violet. Though, perhaps I shouldn't be," he muttered. No matter how badly he wished to have her, he hadn't expected to be in this position so soon with her.

"Oh," she repeated, sitting back on her heels. "I think I do understand now. I'm sorry."

He rose and rested his back against the headboard. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Violet. I'm the one who should apologize. You're not nearly ready enough for this. I shouldn't have kissed you."

She took his hand again. "But I wanted you to. You give so much to me. I learn things from you I can't learn anywhere else. I think it will always be that way for us."

"Do you want there to be an 'us'?" he asked suddenly.

She didn't hesitate. "Of course."

"Violet, what do you want?"

She stared at him. "I'm not sure what you are asking."

"I mean, do you want me in your life?"

Now she felt a twinge of fear course through her.

"Yes."

"But do you understand what that means?"

For some reason she did not like this. She didn't know the answer he wanted to hear, and it made her cheeks burn. "Maybe you should explain it to me."

He ran a hand over his face. "I don't want to scare you away, Violet."

She dropped his hand abruptly. "After all the things I've done, you think you can scare me?! You're treating me like the child I was and not the woman I am. I may not ever be able to understand everything like I should, but I know condescension when I hear it."

He flinched. Shame rammed into him and he couldn't meet her gaze. He'd never seen her angry before.

She took a moment to calm her breathing. "You said you wanted to be open with me, well do it. Say what you mean, _Major_. Maybe you should explain it to me like a child, maybe that's all I am to you... A child who can't understand."

"No! No, you're not. I'm sorry, Violet. You're absolutely right. I'm being a coward. I stayed away from you all this time because I was afraid, and even with you here right next to me, I'm still afraid. I've believed for so long that the best place for me is in your past. You have a full free life without me. I worry that someday... you won't want me in it."

Her eyes grew wet. "I don't love anything in this world, except you."

"Violet..."

"Do you know what I overheard your brother call me once?" she interjected, sniffling. "He was talking with Claudia in his office. At one point, Dietfried said, "You've done a good job taking care of Gilbert's widow." I went straight to my room and didn't come out for three days." She swallowed. "I think that's what I was - your widow. I felt as many women did who'd lost their husbands in the war. When I looked at them I saw my own pain staring back at me. Felt my heartache in the words their husbands would never hear. They said all the things I wished I could have. Maybe then more people would have understood me...

"You say you're afraid I won't want you in my life someday, but I question how you can even ask me that. There is no basis for it. I have tried to be as clear as possible. Short of writing you a report, I'm not sure what else I can do to tell you what I want. Isn't it obvious?"

She sat expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

He gestured her forward and sighed in relief when she came willingly into his arms once more.

"I just want to make sure you understand everything such a union involves, Violet," he stressed.

"What I don't understand I'm sure you'll teach me. It is as I said, you have always been gentle with me. In these matters, it will be no different. I want _you_, and all that it entails."

He brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "You put all your trust in me still, after all these years? How did I get so lucky?"

"Because you are a good man, Gilbert Bougainvillea. Many are not. Sometimes, that is all that matters."

He didn't want to be a coward anymore. He'd hid from her far too long. He didn't want to hide from her ever again.

"I want to be your husband, Violet Evergarden," Gilbert proclaimed softly.

She rested her forehead against his. "I'm glad you finally understand."

* * *

**A/N:**

Inspiration for these two continues to strike...

This is going to be a slowwww story. These two have a lot of things to figure out and work through, so bear with me. :)

Also, please review! I'm not above begging!

(I have a third and part of a fourth chapter written for this. I'll probably post the next chapter in a week or two.)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

* * *

.

.

.

"I have a question," Violet stated.

They were seated outside on the porch, watching the noonday sunlight dance across the fields surrounding the cabin. The summer breeze was warm and carried the fragrance of violets still in full bloom. She'd noticed her name-sake growing around the cabin and smiled, secretly pleased to see he had wished to keep something of her close.

"Hmm...?" Gilbert sighed and took a sip of tea.

"Did you need me to do any work while I'm here, or was it simply a complete ruse?"

Gilbert spluttered and tried vainly to right his dripping teacup before he saw the sparkle of mischief that danced in her eyes. Amazing, how expressive her eyes could be while the rest of her gave nothing away.

He laughed. "You caught me. It was a complete farce. I had to get you here somehow. I didn't want to just show up in Leiden in the middle of your life. I wanted to see you alone. Do it gently, as you say."

"I take my work very seriously. I ask that if you wish to see me in future, that you call first."

He set his teacup down. "I will be sure to do just that."

She shot him a smug look before her face took on its impassive nature once more. "Does anyone else know?"

He nodded somberly. "Hodgins knows, and probably your friends now too. He's known since the beginning. Don't be upset with him. I made him promise not to ever tell you."

Violet allowed the revelation to sink in. "I am not upset," she concluded. "But I do wish you hadn't lied. I never thought you'd lie to me."

"And I'll spend the rest of my life regretting that I had to do it, Violet. I only want what's best for you, but it doesn't excuse the pain I've caused in the process... Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes. I believe forgiveness is an important aspect of love. Is it not?"

"It is. But I hope the one you forgive so easily deserves it."

She sipped her tea delicately.

"He does."

Days passed in the sweet pleasure of one another's company. They went for many walks, around the town, around Gilbert's impressively vast land. He showed her the rich forest near his home, the farmland beyond that he'd purchased and developments he had built for people ravaged by the war. They were mostly families of the men who never came back, he'd told her, men like himself, who sometimes wished they hadn't. Violet made no reply to the remark, knowing well the emotion of guilt that came with surviving while so many others had not.

He'd discovered his own purpose after the war. He had factories built and farmland worked which provided jobs and eventually food to his fellow comrades and their families. Without Violet, it was what got him out of bed each morning that entire first year. His injuries, the visible ones at least, had healed well. He learned to use his mechanical arm, thankful that it was his left and not his dominant right that he'd lost. He hardly noticed the difference any more. His vision was another story. His depth perception would always be off, and sometimes, if he tried to focus using his non-existent right eye, the blackness would devour his vision before he shook his head and heaved, desperate to calm his racing heart. He was lucky the bullet hadn't touched his brain or he wouldn't have made it. It had hit him at an angle, destroying any hope of salvaging his vision or his eye. He had a glass one made, but the sensation of it in his socket irritated him, so he left it in a drawer somewhere and wore the black eyepatch instead.

The invisible injuries, however, had taken much longer to recover from. In fact, they had never really healed; just numbed to a perpetual ache inside his chest. The distraction of his work saved him. For the first time in his life, he was truly grateful to have been born with so much wealth. As soon as he was well enough to travel, he met with his lawyer, an old trusted friend of his father's, took out all of his inheritance and left his home in Leiden, he thought, forever. Soon, he grew adept at disregarding the ache in his chest whenever his thoughts drifted to the girl he left behind. Instead, he forced himself to dwell on the fact that she was well and living her own life now. She was free from being his tool, from warfare, the army, and taking orders from anyone who would abuse her dark talents ever again.

Violet was exceedingly pleased to learn of all the wonderful things Gilbert had accomplished in just a few years. He was reserved about the true extent of his good deeds, but she saw clearly the results of his achievements. The economy here thrived, where after the war it was poor and desolate. He had rebuilt it all from the ground up by housing, giving work, and feeding a good portion of the countryside's population. Violet wondered what Dietfried would have to say if he learned of how his little brother had spent a large chunk of the Bougainvillea fortune. Something insulting, no doubt.

Sometimes silence filled the space between Gilbert and Violet, each lost in their own thoughts and memories. But it was never uneasy or tense, it was a peaceful quiet. They maneuvered around each other with a familiarity that could only result from the close quarters they once shared. So long Gilbert and Violet had been denied the presence of each other. The simple pleasure of looking up and meeting the knowing eyes of the one person you trusted in all the world, was an exquisite pleasure both had missed terribly. Here in this humble yet charming little house undisturbed by the outside world around them, they could enjoy, without prying and ever-watchful eyes, the companionship they'd almost forgotten. There was innocence and chasteness on both their parts, but the touch of a hand, the hint of an irrepressible smile, a tender kiss, were intimate treasures of priceless value.

Nights weren't spent alone for long. Gilbert would always wake up early, unable to resist the urge to see her. Violet would already be awake and waiting for him. She folded herself into his body, like she had when she was a child. They clung together while they slept late into the morning, holding on as if the other could disappear from their grasp at any moment. Gilbert didn't bring up the matter of intimacy again, and neither did Violet. She trusted in him to know when the time was right and vaguely, she wondered if he would wait until they were married. She knew of the custom and didn't mind. Just being in his arms felt exquisite, she couldn't imagine anything better.

Then, in the wee hours before dawn of her last morning there, it was she who crept on wool-padded feet to his bedroom across the hall from hers, and observed from the threshold his softly slumbering form.

Sleep had found him easily this night.

His respiration was deep and even, head turned to the side just so. One arm draped above his head over the pillow and the corners of his mouth curved upward in a small smile. Violet couldn't tear her gaze from the sight of him in such repose.

She remembered sleeping in harsh canvass tents during the war, his cot mere steps away from hers. Even then he kept her close, and she felt safe. But it was war, and soldiers do not sleep deeply during such tumultuous times. Gilbert was easily awoken in those days. Every time she shifted his breathing would change and she could almost feel the power of his well-trained muscles as they tensed for battle. If a twig snapped outside, he visibly flinched, always at the ready for anything that might happen. His sudden alertness permeated the air between them, for when he moved, so did she, and vice versa. He wasn't the only one who listened for threats in the night, but she never complained about her lost sleep. She worried more for him. The bags under his eyes disturbed her, but she could say nothing to convince him of his need for rest. Not while the enemy slept so near.

Only now, as he lay beneath smooth sheets, warm and safe and alive, did she allow herself to see it - the future she'd wanted since the moment he told her to live free. _I don't know what that means but I will… with you. I can do anything as long as I'm with you,_ her mind had whispered. She'd kept that dream deep within her heart, beside all her memories of him and her hopes that he was alive and that nothing was causing him pain. There were moments throughout the last few days that did indeed feel like a dream. Maybe she was dead and this place was where he had been waiting for her all this time. Maybe he _had_ died…

_Maybe this is heaven… _

"Hey, you."

His voice, thick with sleep, sliced through her thoughts like a swift dagger, and she squeaked in surprise. She inwardly scolded herself for allowing herself to think such ridiculous things. They were both very much _alive_.

"Sorry, Violet. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you cold? You're shaking, come here."

Gilbert slid over to make room for her and she climbed into the bed beside him. Nights were still chilly though summer was fast approaching. The sheets were heated from his body and thickly laced with his scent. He wore only soft trousers, his torso bare. She felt briefly unsettled when she noticed his eyepatch was gone and a black hole stared at back her, but it was nothing more than the surprise of seeing it for the first time. She quickly became accustomed to the sight, what she could see of it in the soft light of the moon anyway.

"Couldn't you sleep?" he asked.

"I did for a while. I wanted to see you."

He found her hand and gave it a squeeze. "What were you thinking about just then?"

"The war."

"It's been over for a long time, Violet."

"I know. I was thinking about _you_ more so than _it_. You sleep much better now than you did then."

He chuckled. "I didn't know you watched me so closely."

Her eyes were wide, but soft; unblinking. "I watched everything - I was trained to. But it was never hard, I _wanted_ to watch you. You tried to hide it from me, but I could sense your fear even then. But you were brave. You were always brave..."

"I was afraid of losing you."

"I know that now. I was afraid of losing you, too. Even so, you never left me behind. I was grateful for that. It meant I could protect you, which was all I wanted. I had very simple desires back then. To be with you, to protect you, to hear your orders. That was my life."

"It shouldn't have been."

Violet shrugged. "The past cannot be changed. I do not blame anyone for what I had become. And I will never blame you for using me."

"I never wanted to," he asserted.

"I knew that the moment we first met," she said, smiling. "You weren't like your brother."

He sighed. "I could never be so cruel. Dietfried is… not an easy man to know. The war affected him in a way I never allowed it to affect me. He holds so much anger... no doubt he blames himself for my death."

"Not exactly. He blames me. I told him I tried to save you, but it was still my fault in his eyes. He will always see me as the tool he discarded. If he hadn't given me to you, it would have been _his_ death on my hands, and not yours. That is how he blames himself."

"None of it was your fault, Violet. In any way," he assured adamantly.

"Yes, that's what your mother said," Violet recalled.

His breath hitched. "When did you talk to my mother?"

"A few years ago. Your brother brought me to your house in Leiden. She wanted to meet me, I suppose. She said your death wasn't my burden to carry. I think now maybe she knew that you still lived…"

"I visited her once, before I left, but her memory… Some part of her must have still remembered, then. I wish I could have seen her again before she died."

"She loved you very much. I wonder if my mother loved me like that."

"I thought you didn't remember your parents?"

She sighed. "It's true, I have no memories of them. But I have imagined a few times what they might have been like. I don't like to think about it, but sometimes I do anyway."

Gilbert leaned up on his elbow and regarded her. He could see in the faint starlight that her creamy skin glowed like milk in moonlight. "You're very special, Violet. You never say anything that isn't the truth we all wish we could share."

She frowned. "But I've observed that it makes me very different from others."

"Yes," he agreed huskily, leaning near. "No one else is like you."

"And… that is a good thing?"

"Yes." He brushed her cheek with his lips.

"And… you love me?"

"Very much," he answered softly against the corner of her mouth.

"And-"

He pressed his lips to hers and she quieted. The metal of her hands cooled the heated skin at his neck as his arms snaked around her slender waist and he thought, not for the first or last time, how very right it felt to hold her. After a minute, he pulled away. His head came to rest on her stomach and his eyes grew heavy as she ran a hand through his hair in slow rhythmic strokes.

He loved that she felt at ease enough to touch him so intimately. It was a far cry from where they'd been during the war. He hoped she never tired of it.

Hours later, morning broke through the darkness and woke the sleeping couple. Sometime before the sun had risen, Gilbert had donned his eyepatch. Wanting to examine his old injury by the light of day, Violet went to remove it. He grabbed her wrist to stop her, an unconscious reflex.

"It isn't pretty, Violet," he warned. _Not anymore. _

Her eyes softened. "And how do you feel when you see my scars?"

He balked. "I don't see them. I just see you."

Her brows rose, as if that was the exact answer she had expected and he chuckled, realizing the trap she'd cleverly laid for him.

When she made to remove it again, he didn't stop her. It wasn't pretty, that much was true. But she didn't care about the ravaged skin and empty socket where a kind emerald eye had once resided. She only saw her beloved Major. Besides, it's twin still regarded her the same tender way it always had. Softly, she traced the scar where the bullet had entered with her finger and he flinched.

She withdrew her hand immediately. "Does it still cause you pain?"

"No, but the memory does," he remarked bitterly. "I would have rather lost my other arm instead. What a pair we'd have made if that had been the case. Practically twins."

"Mmm." She stroked his furrowed brow until the tension in the muscles released. "It must be bothersome, having only half your vision."

"An understatement, surely." The bitterness had left his tone, but he was still very somber. Guilt suddenly washed over her.

"I'm so sorry, Gilbert," she blurted. "I was so frightened after you fell, I didn't think to make sure the area was clear. I should have seen those soldiers behind us. If I had I could've pushed you out of the way. I-"

He put a finger to her lips. "Hush, Violet. I never blamed you for a second. You must believe that."

She blinked. "But I failed. All I wanted was to protect you, and I _failed_."

"How can you say that?" he asked incredulously. "I'm alive, aren't I? Granted, you didn't know that for the last five years, but still. You _did_ protect me, Violet! Countless times. If you hadn't fought alongside me in all those other battles, I would have been killed, without a doubt. I walked away from the war _because_ of you. So please," he entreated, "don't say you failed. You have never failed me. You never could… okay?"

He watched her with a steady gaze, hoping she would would see his sincerity.

"Okay…" she mumbled.

"That sounds really convincing, Violet. You don't believe me?"

She pursed her lips. "There is nothing to suggest you aren't being truthful. So yes, I do believe you. But I still think you aren't completely correct. Perception is often relative."

"Yes, it is. But if I see you in a certain way, and you disagree, does that make what I see a lie?"

"No… not exactly," she huffed. "I'm not sure now. I certainly don't mean to tell you how you should feel. I guess it doesn't really matter all that much. If it will make you happy, I'll try to accept what you've said as the truth, then."

"It would make me over the moon."

"Does that mean 'happy'?"

"It sure does, Violet."

Reluctant to rise, they lingered in his bed. They spoke of nothing in particular, but watched each other as though starved. Words were slippery things, thought Violet, when compared to a look or a touch. Something niggled at her. More words would need to be said.

Her quiet voice filled the room. "There's something I wish to ask you. Something I should have asked before now."

"Go ahead," he urged.

"Well, I travel all the way out here because I've been requested by a client, ready to fulfill my sacred duty as a Doll, and then all of a sudden here _you_ are. The only person I've wanted to see every moment of every day since I woke up in the hospital. I guess what I'm wondering is… why now? After all these years?"

In retrospect he should've expected the weighty question. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as he thought of an answer.

"I… couldn't take it anymore," he concluded with a shrug. "Being alone. Being without _you_. I _needed_ to see you again. It consumed me – it was all I could think about. Just to talk to you, hear your voice. I had to know I'd made the right choice, that everything I did was worth it because you thrived without me. I never dreamed you would forgive me for what I made you believe. I couldn't allow myself to hope that you might wish to be with me because you loved me, and not because I was your superior officer or your guardian once."

Violet contemplated this for several long minutes. "I'm glad you couldn't bear it any longer. Is that bad?"

"No, not at all. There were good reasons why I did what I did, Violet. And even though my actions hurt both of us, I don't think I would do it differently if I had the chance. You became an incredible, independent woman without me. You needed to learn to follow your own mind and heart… and I needed to learn to let you go."

She tenderly laid a hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking _you_, Violet. Not the other way around."

She deadpanned. "I require no thanks."

He chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's what you deserve just the same." He nuzzled her cheek with his nose, his lips a hairsbreadth from her ear. "Thank you for loving me, Violet," he whispered.

She sighed contentedly as his arms threaded around her. "Yes, well, I must request that you don't do such a thing again. I found life very disagreeable while you were supposedly dead."

The vibration of his laugh rippled through her pleasantly as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. "I promise."

She sighed, appeased.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. "We have to be at the train station soon…" he mumbled, the heat of his breath ghosting over her skin.

"Yes."

"I must admit, I don't look forward to having this place all to myself again."

"I must get back to work," she declared with a shrug. "But you will come to Leiden, yes?"

"Of course. I imagine a week apart is the most I could suffer through. Will you be alright?"

"Yes. Knowing you're alive and that I haven't- oh," she stuttered. "Knowing you're alive is more than enough."

He looked at her curiously. "Haven't what, Violet?"

She blushed. "Knowing I haven't displeased you somehow," she admitted shyly, "with the life you asked me to live."

He shook his head and smiled. "I'm so proud of you. The woman you've become – it's more than I hoped and prayed for. More than anything, I just want you to be happy, Violet."

Her eyes shone with sudden moisture.

"I _am_ happy, Gilbert… because I'm with you."

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A/N: I've been working furiously on this story the past few weeks and I finally have a general idea of where I want it to go. Thank you to all who've reviewed, followed, and favorited. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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Please Review, I'd love to hear what you think!

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

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During her stay, Violet learned quickly to discern her former Major's moods and intentions, a surge of pride washing through her at how well she could read the man she loved. Gilbert, in turn, was awed by everything she did and said. She clearly did not suppress her thoughts and feelings in the perfunctory way she had when she was a child, and for him especially, it was a wonder that she expressed herself at all. It was so new to him, he hardly knew how to react but with silent admiration. Within days he came to realize just how much being a Doll must have taught and shaped her. His chest tightened every time she smiled or laughed, even more so when it was because of something he did or said.

But what Gilbert discovered he strangely enjoyed, was watching her make tea. Such a mundane, everyday task, yet she flitted from one step to the next with a soft intensity. Filling the kettle with water, placing it gently on the stove, tending to the flame beneath. Then, measuring the tea leaves carefully before tipping each spoonful into the pot. It was purposeful, sure. She knew what she needed to do and when. Vaguely he wondered when she'd learned these things. He winced when he remembered it had been while she had thought him dead. He marveled that she'd had the courage to keep living when she found out. If their roles had been reversed, he was certain he wouldn't have. As it was, he distinctly recalled praying for death before each battle if she were to be taken from him.

She was much stronger than he ever could be. Somehow this girl, who had been through what no human being should ever suffer, had come out the other side unbroken in spirit and… happy. And she loved him. _She loved him. _

It was all Gilbert could do not to interrupt her a thousand times a day by taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless. In the times when he couldn't help himself, Violet would squeak in surprise before kissing him back. He thought it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

And when the time came for her to leave, she tried to find a shred of the bravery she once had as a soldier. She'd rushed headlong into countless battles with dangers unknown at every turn. Her life and his were always on the line, and yet now, saying goodbye felt like the blow that might just destroy her.

"It won't be for long," he promised, as he brushed away the unbidden wetness beneath her sorrowful eyes.

"I'm happy to be returning to work, but… I don't want to leave you," she cried miserably.

"Believe me, Violet, I want nothing more than for you to stay here with me forever. Someday you and I will never have to say goodbye again. Until that day comes, we'll just have to grin and bear it."

"Grin and bear it," she repeated with a harsh swallow.

Enveloping her small frame and pressing his cheek to hers, he promised he would visit her in a week as they'd discussed. She said she'd be waiting for him at the station when he arrived in Leiden. Still teary-eyed, she kissed him one last time, the first she'd ever initiated, and boarded the train. As soon as she found a seat she opened the window and peered out at him.

"Don't worry," he called above the whistle. "We'll be together again before you know it."

She nodded and the train began to move. She leaned out the window as he kept pace alongside.

"One week, Violet. Don't forget."

"I won't."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Gilbert."

He stopped at the end of the platform and watched as she was carried away from him.

Violet could still see him standing at the edge of the station for a few more seconds before the train picked up its speed. She stared until he was a speck in the distance, then nothing.

She pulled herself back into the compartment and closed the window.

Leaning back into the seat cushion and closing her eyes, Violet tried to steady her breathing. This wasn't forever… Only a week and she would see him again. Even if he had wanted nothing more to do with her, just knowing he was alive would've been enough for her, and she'd told him as much. She would have survived that, surely she could survive this. He always kept his promises, so why was she worried?

"I suppose worry is only natural when you love someone," Violet mused aloud.

"Yes, Dearie. It certainly comes with the territory."

Her eyes shot open and found an elderly woman seated across from her. She was short and very slim, with silver hair that framed her face. Her eyes were dull with age, but Violet could tell they'd once been a deep shade of amber. They peered at Violet through thick-lensed spectacles knowingly.

"I saw you with your young man just now. He's a handsome one," she winked.

"We've only just found each other again..." Violet told her, a blush creeping up her neck to think of her beloved Major as _her young man_.

The woman placed a wrinkled hand over Violet's and patted it consolingly. "Goodbyes are never easy. Was it the war?"

Violet nodded.

"So many loved ones lost… but it does this old heart good to see that one was found. If only there were more happy endings…"

"Yes," Violet acknowledged soberly. Bloody images flashed before her eyes and she tried in vain to overpower them. Everything in her body went heavy and she found she hardly had the strength to speak. That was fine, she didn't know what to say anyway. The heaviness in her heart for the things she had done would always be with her.

The trip back would take the better part of a day and she silently cursed Gilbert for living so far away from Leidenschaftlich. He had certainly made sure she never would have found him by accident. He'd done a thorough job of convincing the world of his death, and the thought filled her with a deep and familiar sadness. His death may have been a lie, but her grief had been very real. It would take a long time to heal from the damage.

As the landscape outside the window sped past, she wondered if she would go to live with Gilbert. Would she still be able to do her job? Could she still be a Doll? She hoped she wouldn't have to give it up, but at the same time, she knew it would be the last thing Gilbert would ever ask her to do. She sighed, there was no use thinking of it now, she would have to wait until she saw him next.

Just a week - seven days and she would be in his arms again. She'd waited five years… she could survive seven days.

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The war.

Gilbert tried not to think about it, but such a thing was impossible and probably madness.

Four years they'd been together. In those four years, he'd found his purpose in life. To teach a girl who didn't know what love was what it meant to love, and to be loved in return. He hadn't wanted anything out of his life before Violet entered it. He made teaching her to speak and read and write his duty. It was the least he could do for her. He shuddered, remembering vividly a time when the only word she understood was "kill." And then the shame; when he thought of the way he'd been forced by his superiors to use her as a weapon.

When he woke to see her still form in the hospital bed beside his, he almost lost his mind when he couldn't rouse her. The nurses had tried in vain to placate him, his condition still fragile, but he didn't hear a word they said. He prayed for death to take him then and there if she was dead. Hodgins had shown up soon after to find his friend sedated and nearly inconsolable. Claudia told him Violet was put into a coma so she could heal properly from her injuries.

"_They'll wake her in a few days, Gilbert. She's okay, really."_

_He nodded, finally giving in to the calm the sedative had forced on him, finally understanding that she had made it. They both had. "I've decided something. I'm going to need to call in a favor from you, Hodgins."_

_A nurse was busy tending to the bandage at his shoulder joint where some of the sutures around his new mechanical prosthetic had been torn and begun to bleed from his struggle. He endured the prodding as best he could. _

"_Sure thing, Gil. Name it."_

"_I'm going to go away. Away from Leiden… Away from her." He swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise as he said the words, disgusted with himself but knowing deep inside it would be for the best in the end._

_Claudia eyed the nurse warily, then stared at Gilbert questioningly. Finally, she finished hovering over him and left the two men alone. Only the steady blip, blip, blip of Violet's heart rate monitor filled the room. _

"_I… I need you tell Violet I didn't survive." He attempted to sit up but winced at the pain in his shoulder. "Don't tell her I'm alive. You have to promise me, Hodgins."_

_His friend stared at him for a moment, as understanding dawned on him. "But, why?!" Claudia asked incredulously. "That girl needs you! She doesn't have anyone else." _

"_She needs to find her own path," he grunted, repositioning himself on the bed. "She can't follow my orders forever." _

"_Really, Gilbert, you can't possibly-"_

"_It is my express wish that you look after her," he bit back sharply. "Remember, you promised me you would if anything happened to me. Please, Hodgins. You're my closest friend, the only one I trust to look out for her. She can't know."_

_Hodgins ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "Why are you doing this? It will kill her."_

_Gilbert locked his gaze on Violet. She appeared younger and more vulnerable than she had in years, and he released a pained sigh. Sleep was playing the wicked temptress when all he wanted to do was continue to watch over her. _

"_I'm doing this because I love her. She'll be fine without me… She has to be..."_

_Claudia scratched the back of his head. "What about you?" he asked gently. "Will you be alright?"_

"_As long as she is alive and well…" he trailed off. Gilbert knew full well he would never be alright, but he was ready to make the sacrifice if it meant Violet would be free of the army and taking orders ever again. _

_Claudia tried to hide the pity he felt acutely for his friend. He gave a solemn nod. "I'll take care of her, Gil. I swear."_

"_Thank you…" Gilbert sighed. His good eye fell shut and his breathing evened as the sedative finally forced him into unconsciousness. _

_When Violet eventually woke, the only man she wanted to see would not be there. He would be miles away, never to return again. _

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Gilbert tossed onto his back with a huff. Vainly he fought for sleep, but he soon realized that he couldn't without her by his side. Two weeks she'd spent in his home, and most nights spent beside her in the same bed, and already he was a mess without her. He had spent so many years away from her, and yet now he could barely think one thought that didn't contain her. And yet it was a welcome madness.

The moment he left the train station, he'd immediately gone to the jeweler's shop in town.

"Hey Boss," the older man behind the counter greeted with a friendly smile. It was a nickname many townsfolk proprietors had taken to calling him, as most of their patrons worked for Gilbert.

"Hello there, Stan." Gilbert walked over to the counter and gave him a handshake. "How's Melody?"

"Back's been giving her some trouble, but other than that she's fine all 'round." Stan's wrinkled face scrunched as he peered through his glasses at Gilbert. "What can I do for ya? You don't come in here much."

Gilbert grinned. "Actually… I'm looking for a ring."

"No kiddin'?! Who's the lucky lady?"

"A girl I've loved for a very long time, Stan."

The old man smiled knowingly. "Well, you just have yourself a good look around. Unless you have something specific in mind? Could even place a custom order if nothing in here'll do."

"Thank you."

Gilbert had a vague idea of what he wanted for Violet. It had to be just right. He told her he wanted to be her husband, and nothing had ever felt truer. But he hadn't asked her to marry him outright, and she deserved to have that. He tried to ignore the niggling feeling in his stomach that something was holding him back as he vowed to himself he would never take a moment for granted, every second with her was invaluable. But a ring, he could pick out a ring without a problem. It was the asking her part he wished to push off.

Her tastes tended to be based on practicality, simplicity even. She was never one to be attracted to things just because they were shiny or pretty… except for that brooch. The one time she'd been given the freedom to choose something, anything, all for herself, she had picked something that would remind her of _him_. And she still wore it proudly at her throat.

_It was all I had left of you that I could touch, _she'd told him.

That's when he knew it had to be an emerald, one to match her brooch. Diamonds were beautiful, but would hold no significance to her. And the band, it should be gold. A precious metal for a precious woman whose heart was made up of the same refined mettle.

Carefully, he examined each ring as he made his way about the shop. When he wandered toward the case by the wall opposite the register he stopped short.

There it was.

The sight of it sitting in its case of black velvet almost stole his breath away. The emerald was rich and deep like her brooch, an exact match for his eye color. The stone was oval cut, with a delicate gold leaf crusted with tiny diamonds curled against it on each side. The effect was stunning.

"Find somethin' you like?"

Gilbert stepped to the side, whipping his head over his shoulder. He hadn't heard Stan walk up next to him. "Y-yes actually. That one there, with the gold leaves," he said. "It's perfect."

Keyring in hand, Stan miraculously picked the correct one out among the cluster and unlocked the cabinet. He took the velvet box cautiously into his wrinkled hand, delicately pinched the ring between crinkled fingertips and held it up to the light. "That's a mighty pretty one. Not a lot of people buy emeralds. Always wantin' a diamond for their lady. Not yours, eh? I bet she's mighty special."

"She is the most important person in my life."

The older shopkeeper grinned. "Well if this is the one, let's get it cleaned up and ready for ya. It's been in that case a mighty long time, I tell ya. Mighty long time. Glad it'll belong to somebody now."

Stan took the ring into the back and polished it until it would gleam in even the faintest of light. When he came out and handed it to Gilbert, he gave the young man a pat on the shoulder. "I'm happy for ya, Boss. You know, Melody and I have been married for almost forty-five years, and I still fall in love with her all over again every morning. When it's right, it's really right, Boss. So, is it? Is it really right?"

Gilbert swallowed almost nervously under the older man's piercing gaze. But then an image of waking beside Violet as she lay basked in the golden light of the morning entered his mind and he took a deep, but sure, breath. "Yes," he answered evenly. "It is."

Another firm slap to the shoulder. "Let's get you settled here, then!"

As Gilbert exited the shop and wandered down the street, he thought he'd float up and disappear into the clouds were it not for the the slight weight of the ring box in his jacket pocket. The weight of the future it symbolized anchored his feet firmly to the ground. He hadn't even haggled with Stan for it; the price was more than fair.

He couldn't wait to see the look on Violet's face when he presented it to her.

He itched for the day when they would never have to be apart again. But, he remembered, they needed time to sort through the past _and _the future. No matter how much they loved each other, jumping immediately into married life might do more harm than good. Years apart stood between them, in which they had both grown and changed. They needed to get to know each other again, and that would just take time. But despite all that, he knew if he tried to ask her now, he would hesitate. And he didn't want to admit to himself the reason why, so he pushed it away and forced his mind onto other matters.

He wondered if he should tell his brother he was alive. Dietfried would of course be livid, of that Gilbert was sure. The main reason he hadn't told him was because Gilbert didn't want anything to do with the army ever again. He was finished with that life long before the Battle of Intense and worried that if word had gotten back to headquarters that they would rope him into more years of service, and "request" his "weapon" serve alongside him again. No matter if there wasn't another war, there would always be small factions of resistance to be taken care of, and he vowed to never put Violet in a position like that again. She deserved far more than to be chained to him, a slave to his orders, ever again.

But it had been five years. That was another reason he wanted to see Violet now. Gilbert thought it had been long enough that, should the military discover he was still alive, they would leave him alone. He had a choice now. He was a decorated veteran in death, they would respect his refusal of service in life now that peace, for the most part, had been achieved between the warring nations. And if it came down to the matter of Violet, he would lie. She was no longer fit for service, and it was true in its own way. Violet told him she vowed never to kill again, even at the expense of her own life, and he wholeheartedly believed her. That being the case, the military would want nothing to do with her anyway.

But Dietfried… he was no longer the man Gilbert had always looked up to. Gilbert first noticed it the moment his brother had clutched the hair of a starved, dirty child, and threw her violently at Gilbert's feet in a sort of sick offering of congratulations on his promotion to Major. He would never forget the look of twisted pleasure on his brother's face when her bony limbs made impact with the hardwood floor. Yet, she hadn't made a sound of protest or pain. Violet had sat there, head down in submissions for it had broken Gilbert's heart. How could his brother be so cruel? Gilbert had never even allowed himself to wonder just what had gone on between them before Dietfried had turned the burden of her over to him. And he could never bring himself to ask her. Truthfully, he didn't want to know the extent of his brother's depravity.

Gilbert hated to admit it, but the thought of being in the same room as his brother unnerved him. The way he'd treated Violet over the years was needlessly harsh when she had clearly been grieving for the same person as he. Dietfried had told her to keep her promise to Gilbert, and then die when she was finished. It made Gilbert sick.

Was it finally time for the youngest Bougainvillea bother to return? Gilbert wasn't sure. Everything he'd built here would do fine without him. He didn't necessarily have to oversee the factories and farms anymore; other people could be trusted with those responsibilities in his stead. Still, he was reluctant to the idea. It would mean being a part of the aristocracy again, a world he didn't miss but would be forced back into. Cocktail parties and mind-numbing holiday balls and the young daughters of wealthy families paraded before him like prized chattel and not human beings. Those things had amused him briefly when he was a younger man, he couldn't care less for them now.

That was before the war; before Violet.

The Bougainvillea family had dwindled since his father died, many of Gilbert's uncles and cousins had been killed in action. There were only Gilbert and Dietfried left of the old military family now, and neither of them had the hope of an heir yet. Gilbert was exhausted by the mere thought of it all.

No decisions had to be made just yet, he had only just been reunited with Violet.

_Time_, he reminded himself.

_It will just take time_.

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A/N: Thank you for your patience. I haven't been able to work on this as much as I would like cuz life, lol. Thanks for the reviews! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the story is going to start picking up a little bit soon, but like I said, this is one of those slow ones. :)

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

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When Violet stepped down onto the train platform at the station in Leiden, the sun was just setting beyond the mountains. A familiar redhead greeted her. His hands were tucked into his pockets casually and he grinned up at her cheekily.

"How was your trip, Violet?"

"I am sure you can infer that for yourself, Claudia."

She gave him a quick bow before he gave her a friendly embrace, the golden sunlight making her azure eyes sparkle.

He laughed, taking her case and parasol and picking his way through the crowd of other passengers that had disembarked the train. She noticed the company car waiting for them at the curb.

"Well, you stayed the entire two weeks. I'm betting you didn't murder him for faking his death?"

She laughed lightly, enjoying his ridiculous humor. "No, I most certainly did not. And if you must know, I didn't accomplish any work at all."

He winked at her as he put her things in the trunk. "I figured as much."

She climbed into the back seat with him a moment later.

"So," he continued as the driver pulled away from the curb. "What exactly did you two do, anyway?"

She blushed though she knew nothing they'd done really warranted it... yet.

"We... talked," she answered truthfully.

"Say no more. I think you'd better save any salacious details for the Dolls. They're dying to see you. My wife especially."

She ignored his remark and thought of her dear friends. "I did miss them."

"So, you're okay, then? Seeing Gilbert after all this time?"

"Yes. I am okay."

"Good. I hope you know I never meant to hurt you, Violet. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined to follow through with it. He made me promise I wouldn't tell you he was alive. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. He put me in a tough spot. I couldn't say no."

"I understand."

Claudia sighed, relieved. "Well, what are you two going to do now? Your relationship is pretty complicated."

She cocked her head at him. "Complicated? How?"

"Well, ah. You're so much younger than he is. Haven't you noticed?"

"Is that of significance?"

"Uh, yeah? Never mind… forget I said anything. How is the bastard, anyway? He wears an eyepatch now, huh?"

Violet distractedly answered Claudia's questions in her typical dry fashion as they wove their way through the city. His words rang in her ears. Did it matter that Gilbert was so much older than her? She was certainly of a marriageable age by now so she didn't think so, and she tried to put it out of her mind.

When they arrived at the CH Postal Company building, the Dolls were waiting for her outside. One by one they embraced her and asked questions over each other so fast Violet's head spun. "Please, my friends. One at a time," she begged.

They went into the Dolls' offices and promptly shut themselves in, officially closing up shop for the day.

Her friends sat around the wooden table by the bookshelves and never took their eyes off her.

"What was it like?" Erica asked eagerly, her chin propped up in her hand as she stared dreamily at Violet. "Seeing him after all this time?"

"Yeah, Vi," Iris piped up. "Did you just melt into his arms?"

"Melt..." Violet repeated softly, a secret smile gracing her lips. "Yes, I believe that is a most apt word to describe the sensation."

Cattleya practically moaned. "Oh, you must tell us everything, Violet! From the first moment you saw him."

Violet told them as best she could of her reunion with her former Major, as he always would be to her whether they were in the army anymore or not. The girls sighed when she told them of how he'd kiss her when she least expected it. She told them of the wonderful work he did for the veterans and their families and how she never once touched her typewriter the whole time she was there. She kept their nightly conversations to herself, though. They were hers and Gilbert's alone, and she didn't feel the need to ever share them.

After Violet felt she'd prattled on long enough, she told them of his promise to visit in a week.

"It sounds like a dream, Vi. I'm so happy for you," Iris crooned. "You deserve this. A happy ending for you and the Major."

"Gee, Iris. Who knew you could be so sentimental?" Cattleya joked, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief that had the initials 'CH' clearly embroidered in the corner. Her wedding band glinted off her finger. "And I thought my husband was a hopeless romantic, just look at me! I'm a mess!"

Erica giggled. "We always knew Claudia was a softie, Cat. He found his match, don't try to deny it. But what will you do now, Violet? Are we all going to a white veil occasion soon?"

Violet hesitated. "I'm... not really sure. At least... not yet anyway."

Cattleya slammed her palm on the table abruptly. "What do you mean you're not sure?"

"Well, he hasn't explicitly asked me to marry him. Not in those words. That is the proper way, is it not?"

"Proper?" Iris scoffed. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll ask you the second he sets foot in this town. If he doesn't, let's just say I've got a few words for him."

Cattleya rolled her eyes. "Hush, Iris. You'll leave him alone. He's certainly been through enough, decorated war hero and all. Besides, after all these years apart, perhaps it's best they don't rush."

"But, they're meant to be!" she argued.

"Just the same," Cattleya rallied, "they have time now. They didn't have that before."

Erica pushed her glasses up with a finger and regarded Violet, who'd remained silent throughout the exchange. "What do youthink, Violet?"

A pause. "I think... no – I know that I love him. And he loves me. And I know what he told me. And I believe him."

"What did he tell you, Vi?" asked Iris.

Violet blushed, a small smile emerging despite her preternatural instinct to remain expressionless. "That he wants to be my husband."

The girls let out a collective sigh.

She continued, "It is more than I could have ever hoped for, so whether we are married sooner or later, all that matters is that it will happen someday. I know it. I feel it, right here." She placed her hand over her heart, just below her brooch.

"How romantic," Erica cried.

Cattleya draped an arm around Violet's shoulder. "I know I speak for all of us when I say we're so happy for you, Violet. You found the Major, er... well he found you, anyway. But you never gave up. I always admired you for that."

Violet turned to her. "Did Claudia tell you Gilbert was alive?"

"No," she huffed. "He told me he was never coming back. I assumed… well never mind what I assumed. It drove me crazy! I knew Claudia was hiding something. I guess he and Gilbert had been in touch recently, about you I later realized. He kept everything hush hush until you'd left, then he filled us all in on the good news. We've been sworn to secrecy, though God only knows why. Doesn't the Major want to go back to his old life?"

Violet shrugged. "I do not believe so. He's made a good living for himself. It is meaningful work, and he has accomplished much. I'm very proud of him. Like myself, he has found a way to do something good for others. I wouldn't ask him to leave it behind any more than he'd ask me to stop being a Doll."

"But, how will you? Be a Doll, I mean," Erica inquired. "All the way out there, I don't think it's possible. And if he won't come here to Leiden..." she trailed off.

"I know. I have thought about it. But it is something I must discuss with him. I have no answers yet."

Violet noted the looks of sympathy on her friend's faces and put on the most reassuring smile she could muster.

A few moments of silence passed before Cattleya stood. "Well, it's getting late. We should all get some rest. Especially you, Violet. I'm sure the journey was tiring. I'll see you in the morning," she bid as she opened the door. "And welcome back, sweetie. We really missed you around here."

"Yeah, glad your back, Vi. See you tomorrow," Iris said, shooting her a wink before she, too, left for home.

Erica stayed behind and waited until Violet looked up and gave her a questioning look. She'd become withdrawn, falling into her old expressionless habit, after Erica asked her whether or not she'd still be a Doll in the future.

"You okay, Violet? I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't, Erica. I was only thinking about what it would be like... to not be a Doll anymore. I don't want to stop, but I might not have any other choice. I choose Gilbert over this job. It is not a question. But it makes me sad nonetheless."

Erica patted her friend's gloved hand in sympathy. "You'll think of something. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you, Erica. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Violet. Sweet dreams."

Yes, Violet thought later as she climbed the stairs to her empty room and thought of Gilbert. Sweet dreams.

The week that followed was a tumultuous one for Violet. Being so driven to distraction was a new sensation for her, and it was all she could do to focus on the task at hand. She had clients that could not be turned away; people who came in at all hours of the day requesting her by name. Yet all Violet could think about was Gilbert. What was he doing right now as she sat here poised at her typewriter? What was he thinking about as she stood in the park eating her lunch? Was he thinking of her every waking moment, like she was of him?

It was enough to make her audibly groan in frustration. The other Dolls were startled by it at first, Violet never being prone to such outbursts in the past. But then they'd just exchange knowing smiles with each other and continue on with their own work. Violet was blooming under the effects of love. Her understanding of so many things grew at an exceptional rate compared to before Gilbert had walked back into her life. It was no coincidence. She'd heard that experience was the best teacher, now she wholeheartedly agreed with the statement.

But, she decided, some things had not changed at all. She didn't feel the obsessive need to have his orders anymore; she had plenty of purpose without them. But Gilbert was still the world to her, and the center of her world was Gilbert. Yes, she'd finally managed to do as he'd wished her to, to live her own life. But when she'd lost him, facing that initial grief had nearly killed her. All the things she did, the lives she took… meant nothing if he was dead. The Major walking away from that war with his life intact had been her one and only goal, and she thought she had failed. Protecting him was all she knew. But after… the loss of him was nearly unbearable. Would she ever be able to articulate to him that he was her reason for living, even when he was gone? Her memories of him had sustained her in the depths of her despair, had pulled her out of the darkness and pushed her to go on. She could hardly believe the relief it brought to know he was alive. It was bliss, pure joy, that he loved her still. She'd been drowning all these years without him, now she could finally breathe.

Now, she could truly live.

Violet paused. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Could you please repeat that last part?"

She'd been asking clients to do that a lot lately.

"Sure! I was saying…"

When the letter was finished, she put it into her client's hand. Under present circumstances, it wasn't her best work. But the client was happy, and that was all that mattered at the end of the day. She'd written over thirty letters during the course of the past week. It was Friday evening. Gilbert would be boarding a train soon, arriving at Leiden central station early the next morning.

Her heart raced at how few hours stood between them. She wouldn't sleep a wink.

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**A/N: You'd think with being under a quarantine I'd have oodles of time to write. Alas... it is not so. lol**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


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